Wichita eagle., 1887-08-02
4 49, - ~A
IN THE P0STOFFICE.
STRANGE SIGHTS AND ODD FOLK
IN UNCLE SANS BUILDING.

| nance and G1impses OF Misery.Pasturo
Ground for Beggars.
The federal building, ordinarily known as
the postoffice, stands in sea Of slush New
York is pretty dirty place at the best, but
the dirtiest spot is Mail street, extending from
Broadway TO Park row, and utilized by 100-
600 people every morning and every after
noon. 1t makes no difference whether the
snow has been cleared from every street In
the city, Mail street, which is supposed to be
cared for by the general government on the
south and the municipality on the north, is
slushy in wet weather, piece Of ice when
the wind whistles chilly across it. It's q
| pretty sight, too, this great, brown stoned
| granite building-heavy, cumbersome, with
not less than score Of broken windows and
,, dirt galore. Let us scuf through the slush
as best we can and approach the main en-
trance, fronting the great square where stand
the Astor house, st. Paufs church and the
dirty depot of all the surface roads.
Dirtya All the time. Immediately in
front of the doorway is marble pavement
which by long continuity of attrition is worn
away into "a series of little basins, which in
snowy weather are filled with slush and on
rainy days with puddly water.
Push open the door.
What's here7 Mercy, what SMELL An
analysis of this atmosphere would reveal a
| precious compund, would it not! Whom do
| we see? Bootblacks, messenger boys, groups
| of Italians, bevies of Germans, a horde of
Irish, rural guests by the score, girls peeping
in the windows, long lines of expectaut pur-
ohasers of stamps, warmers Of coat tails tele-
| graph operators and over all continuous
hum as OF busy hives Of bees
THE WATCHER AND THE WATCHED.
Who is this gorgeous creature, with gold
bullion on his cap, buttons of shining brass,
switching a cane right and left, hitting now
| a boy, punching now tramp, consequential
| all the time!
| He's Waterman.
He watches all these people of whom have
| spoken, and he watches the unrolling of hui
manity's panorama day in and day out until
he might, if he would, become 80 thoroughly
| familiar with human nature in all its phases
| as to make him fit for professorship in the
great college of the races / stand by his side
and share with him his opportunity. Four
boys rush in. Pell nell they approach this
that and the other box, quickly they unlock
and empty its contents irf their bags. With
whoop and yell and lad like scream they rush
out again. An old lady with a coalscuttle
bonnet faded suit of brown, timidly APP
proaches the officer and asks for q stamp. He
bruSquely points to window at the other
end of the corridor Timidly she moves away
again, obviously not understanding the direc-
ton, as she stops and asks again of a passer.
| A queer looking man, pale as white paper,
thin, seedily dressed, slides up to the window
| Of the general delivery, and with look OF
suspicion on either side whispers a name, is
| compelled to repeat it, answers question or
| two, receives a letter, pockets it and slides
away.
Who is it, whence comes it, why didn't he
open and read the letter.
A jaunty girl, with red feather and bird
and gold handled umbrella, passes with an
entirely satisfied look upon her face. takes
from her pocketbook bill, buys some stamps.
and with nod and smile to the clerk passes
into the street, on the other side, humming to
herself as blithely as once sang the bird
which ornaments her hat.
AIDS TO STRANGERS
Hanging in various corners of the dark and
gloomy corridors are lists of unclaimed letters,
in French, German and English. The picture
of strangers far from home, old men, young
girls, each wondering whether there is news
from those they love across the sea, is both
interesting and pathetic. To see an old man
point his stubby finger to the list behind the
glass and vainly seek to find his own name
printed there, is of itself suggestion to an
artist, but to watch the varying phases OF
emotion as seeking he thinks he finds, or then
has lost, affords light and shadow for genre
picture, the interest of which need not be e4-
aggerated A detective mails decoy letter,
q tradesman a BILL rascal Matchmaking
anonymous disclosure, gallant a note sug-
costing an appointment, sweetheart unveils
the secret of his love, and those great bundles
what are they2 Circulars from patent
medicine house, notes of invitation to grand
banquet and those edged with black announce
ments of funeral service.
Hangers on abound in the postoffice cor
ridors.
This man, little, beaming faced Irishman,
who may be so and who may be 20 years OF
age, is waiting for q job. He halls every
man with gripsack and every woman with
large bundle, hoping to earn sumptuous
| quarter or at least humble dime.
Beggars, tooe
| 1t is fine place for beggars. Beggary is
| great trade 1t has all manner Of men and
women in its practice, from the plausible
swindler;down to the vulgar petitioner. for the
| humbleSt com. Now ana Then, however,
man may ask for aid and not be considered
rightfully beggar.
In less than an hour 10000 people passed
! through the postoftice.
| 1t is a busy place.
| Millions of letters, millions Of newspapers,
hundreds of thousands of packages, millions
of dollars, all pass safely in and out, year
after year-and the human worth that passes
| in and out every day is in volume SO tire
| mendous, so multitudinous that, If there be
| any truth at the bottom of the religious well,
and there be a future, one may well hesitate
ere he criticises the incomings and outgoings
| Of the riff raft, the off securing of earth, to
whom the postoffice building is not only
warming spot and a breathing place, but
| field for endeavor in their peculiar phases Of
industry, dirty, criminal, wretched offcasts
though they be.
1t seems strange, but really there appears
| to be moral in everything, don't you know.
Joe Howard in New York World.
Used the Wrong Bottle.
To catch ups bottle of perfume and dab
| the stopper at ones upper up, believe is